


back in time for Valentine's (I will make you burn)

by AthenaDione



Category: Justice League Dark: Apokolips War (2020), Justice League vs. Teen Titans (2016), Teen Titans - All Media Types, Teen Titans: The Judas Contract (2017)
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/M, Sexual Content, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 01:00:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29323596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AthenaDione/pseuds/AthenaDione
Summary: Damian comes home from a mission in time for Valentine's Day.[One-Shot]
Relationships: Raven & Damian Wayne, Raven/Damian Wayne
Comments: 11
Kudos: 71





	back in time for Valentine's (I will make you burn)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JTee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JTee/gifts).



Not a word. No message from the com-link, no trace of his location, not even a whisper of his presence through their bond. 

Two weeks. Two whole weeks since he went on an undisclosed mission. 

Without a single indication that he’s even alive. 

She knows that as much as they train, missions almost never go according to plan, and delays are always expected, but she can’t help but worry. He was due back  _ yesterday,  _ and night has fallen again. With strict instructions to not engage, she can’t even reach out to him with her soul-self. The last thing she wants to do is endanger him further.  _ But what if he’s already in danger?  _ If he doesn’t come back by the end of the week she’ll search for him, regardless of the consequences, but she hopes she doesn’t have to resort to such measures. 

_ Please Damian, come home.  _

The walk to her bedroom is short, and she spends it planning her next steps, twirling the ring on her finger absentmindedly. By the time she reaches the entrance to their door she’s gone over their contingency plan at least three times. Wiping slick rain water from her brow, she then waves her palm over the scanner and waits for it to light in recognition at her unique signature. It slides open soundlessly in the darkness, a mockery of a welcome. 

Shadows creep in the corners of their bedroom when she finally steps inside. Ever growing, always restless. They mill about mindlessly until the light of her lamp chases them away, illuminating the room in its warm glow. Eyes drifting to the bedside table, she sees his sketchbook and the piece of charcoal he was using just before he was given his assignment. He’d wanted to clear his mind after a particularly difficult day of patrolling, and he’d just sat down at his desk to draw for a few minutes when the call came through, from Batman. He couldn’t tell her any details, but she’d deduced that it was family business from the bitterness in his tone. Though from his father’s side or his mother’s, she still doesn’t know. 

She hadn’t moved the sketchbook, wanting him to be able to pick up right where he left off when he returned. But it’s hard. Every time she looks at it, disconsolation pangs through her chest. 

Sighing heavily, she walks past the night stand until the sketchbook is out of sight and carpet changes to tile beneath her boots. Stepping into their master bathroom, she unclasps her drenched cloak and it falls to the floor with a resounding  _ plop.  _ Her boots and leotard quickly follow, and she steps into the shower, suppressing a shiver. The spray of the water is calming and she allows it to wash away the grime and the sweat from the past hour. Patrol had been uneventful, though the rain was unexpected- and shockingly cold. Usually she would put up a shield and keep flying but today she wanted to feel it pepper her skin and glide off her fingertips. And perhaps when she was finished she stayed out a little bit longer than necessary on the roof of the Tower to allow the droplets to caress her face thoroughly. 

And as long as she loves to stay under the spray of water, her fingers and toes are beginning to wrinkle in the shower, so she reluctantly steps out. The steady monotone of the downpour outside the window tells her that the rain has no intention of stopping in the near future, but that’s okay because it makes for perfect reading weather. So shortly after she slips on her deep blue satin robe, she reaches for the book on her own nightstand and settles in their bed, legs sliding under the covers. 

She allows her mind to drift, to be taken by the words on the page and transported somewhere else entirely. There’s something about losing oneself in the words of another. With each sentence the tension is eased from her shoulders, the worry creases above her brows receding until all she knows is the characters on the page before her and a plight that is far more trivial than her own. 

So enthralled she is in her novel, that she doesn’t feel the brush of his aura until he’s leaning against the doorway, legs crossed, with quiet mirth dancing in his eyes, concealing a deeper emotion within. 

“You look so  _ comfortable,  _ Mrs. Wayne, I almost regret disturbing your peace.” 

Whipping her head at the sound of his voice, the novel slips precariously from her fingers, suddenly forgotten. He shifts, pushing himself off the door frame to step further into their bedroom and the warm glow of the lamp luminates his dampened face. She takes in his figure, noting every piece of torn fabric from his dark uniform that reveals small scrapes and bruises underneath. A small, intimate smile adorns his face, giving her a look through drenched, curly, locks that tells her more about what he’s gone through than he could ever describe with words alone. 

“Damian.” She breathes, nearly hiccups, because the swell of emotion in her throat makes it so difficult to speak.  _ He’s alive. He’s home.  _

Damian’s eyes soften at the tears that form in the corners of her eyes and he pushes off the doorframe to greet her. “Hello, beloved.” 

Already her feet are moving out from underneath the sheets at his words, and by the time she blinks she’s standing. Her robe slipping down her shoulders from the sudden movement does nothing to distract her from continuing her quest to reach him. 

They meet somewhere in the middle with her nearly leaping into his arms and the force of her momentum causes him to grunt softly from the sudden effort of holding them both. He takes an involuntary step back for balance and his arms wrap around her just as her own arms snake around his neck. And then she’s peppering kisses on his eyelids, his nose, his cheeks, down to his neck as her fingers travel searchingly for dire injuries. All at once questions are bubbling up her throat and spilling from her lips. “Are you well? Do you have any injuries? Do you need me to heal you?”

“I’m  _ fine,  _ Raven.” His lashes flutter against her cheek and the breath from his soft laugh tickles her neck. “All is well. The mission was successful.” He shifts his arms around her so that she slides a few inches down his front, low enough for him to be level with her eyes. The movement prompts her to wrap her legs around his waist for equilibrium, and he responds in kind by resting one arm below her bottom, the other against her lower back. 

“I’ve missed you.” He breathes. There’s so much more that passes between them in those three small words.  _ I needed you. I’ve been desperate to touch you. I couldn’t wait for the moment to run back home to you.  _

“What happened? Where did you go?” She asks him, wiping the strands of hair that sticks to his face to the side so that she can get a better view of his eyes.

“Gotham. It seems that my mother is alive, though only a shell of who she used to be.” Emerald orbs shut tightly, warring against memories of a battle she does not understand yet. She can see there’s so much that happened, so many things that he needs to say to her, but not right now. Understanding his need for silence, she places a chaste kiss on the tip of his nose, an offering of whatever comfort he wishes to take from her.  _ I’m sorry _ , the kiss says,  _ I am here for you.  _

“I’m sorry I was late. I came back as quickly as I could. I was hoping I could make it back in time, but it’s already night.” 

Brows draw together in confusion. “What do you mean?” 

He cocks his head at her, then motions backwards towards the entrance of the door. She blinks, seeing the bouquet of assorted roses and the box of chocolates leaned against the vase on the valet table.  _ What in Azar’s name? Wait, it isn’t their anniversary is it? She’s sure it’s not until May.  _

“Happy Valentine’s Day habibti.” His brows furrow in a light frown, “It’s nowhere near what I originally planned, but I’ll make up for it.” He promises, then begins to walk them both further into the room. 

Raven stares at her husband, incredulous.  _ Is he being serious right now? _ “Damian, Valentine’s Day is the last thing on my mind at the moment. I was more focused on wondering whether you were still alive and if I should go after you.” 

His gaze lowers at her words and he presses his lips to her collarbone, kissing lightly. “I...know.” Whispering against her skin, his lips travel lower over the soft swell of her breast. His aura brushes over her and she finally realizes why he’s acting the way that he is. The nonchalance. The laid-back conversation. His clipped words and short sentences. A storm of emotions, pent up inside of him, is threatening to spill over- and the normalcy of buying flowers and chocolates for her on Valentine’s Day is probably the only thing keeping him from falling apart. 

Her eyes soften considerably, “Thank you, habibi.” She settles a hand against his cheek and he leans into her touch. “Happy Valentine’s Day. I’ve missed you more than you know.” Those words don’t even come close to the relief she’s feeling right now that he’s here, alive. But she can also feel his internal battle growing, his desperation and guilt and fear, so instead she wrinkles her nose when she catches his scent- spruce and pine, but also dirt and grime and something else that suspiciously smells like blood. “You need a hot shower.” 

The tension between them eases and Damian just snorts and allows her feet to touch the ground before releasing her from his hold, and Raven looks down at her robe, completely soaked through from the front of his uniform. She takes his hand in hers and leads them both to the shower. Another one can’t hurt right? Especially not if she gets to share it with him.

The exhaustion in his muscles is palpable, and each step seems to be a little heavier, and he doesn’t resist when she unzips the back of his uniform for him, allowing her to undress him. With a delicate flick of her wrist, the shower starts once more with her power, and she watches him step out of his spandex, and drop it next to her soaked leotard. Her robe follows quickly behind before she faces him once more. 

Even more bruises and scrapes decorate his body, and soon she’ll take the time to kiss them all, but now she leads him inside directly under the spray of water. His soft groan of pleasure from the contact fills her ears and she shoves down the arousal that shoots up her spine at the low, husky sound. Biting her lower lip between her teeth, she grabs the soap, aware of his following eyes as she begins to massage the body wash into one of their loofahs. 

Damian lifts a brow when she steps closer but doesn’t make any movements to hand him the soapy sponge. “Raven?” He asks when she stands on her tip-toes to place a kiss on his collarbone. Droplets of water fall from his hair down his chest and she swallows. “Shh.” She takes the sponge and follows the water down his neck, his chest, his abdomen. “Let me take care of you.” 

He sighs, a long exhale of breath, submitting to her ministrations as she continues to bathe him. Completely enthralled by his wet, olive skin, and the soap that travels over the muscles of his biceps, she wipes again, mouth trailing the water that washes away the suds. Every brush against his skin seems to relax him further, her healing magic soothing every ache and sharp pain. Determined to kiss every inch of him, she washes him slowly and thoroughly, ignoring the low growl in the back of his throat as he comes back to life under her touch. “You’re so beautiful habibi.” She reaches up on her tip-toes, staring into widened eyes. “Having you here with me, in our home, is everything I could ever ask for on Valentine’s Day.” 

Then, staring at him through hooded eyes, she lowers her face to his chest and kisses there lightly before swirling her tongue around one nipple. The hiss she earns directly after sends a thrill through her. “ _ Raven.”  _ Damian nearly groans, tone betraying some of the desperation he’s holding back. But she doesn’t want him to hold back from her.

“Yes, beloved?” A smile of nonchalance lights her features, and she brings the sponge to trail back over his nipple that’s now hardened, and she doesn’t bother to hide the desire in her eyes when she then lowers it down to his length, brushing lightly. Damian inhales sharply at the contact, his arousal growing and fueling her own. 

“Raven.” His breath hitches, “I-”

“Damian.” She cuts him off, standing fully to caress his jawline with her lips. “Don’t think of anything else but me, tonight. Take whatever you need from me. I am yours.” She pauses to capture his eyes. “Use me.” 

Damian releases a strangled noise in the back of his throat at her words, and the rest of his resistance washes away with the soapy water down the drain. She hums in approval when he finally takes hold of her waist and lifts her up against the back of the shower, pressing against her. In turn, her arms cling around his neck, fingers threading through his wet hair. The cold tile against her back contrasts the heat and the pleasure that’s coiling low in her stomach. Legs wrapping around him involuntarily, she gasps when he pins her down further, his now full erection rubbing against her sex, creating a delicious friction that has her yearning for more. 

Hot, open-mouthed kisses trail from the shell of her ear down the side of her neck before traveling back up to capture her lips. Moaning into his kiss, she allows him entrance to her mouth, and he takes his time exploring, re-familiarizing himself with the taste of her. Their kiss is long and it’s deep, and she can feel the love he pours into it. Her heels dig into his lower back, silently asking him for more and he groans, warm breath against her neck when she angles her hips to slide against his length. 

He bends his head to capture a nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it like she had done to him moments ago, and she arches into his hold, letting go of a whine. Suddenly the shower feels hot.  _ Too hot.  _

Then he’s carrying them both out of the shower and water is drenching the bathroom floor, the carpet, and then their bed, but neither of them care. The water will dry and she’s too focused on the feel of his slick, hard, body against her own, fingernails digging lightly into his back while doing everything she physically can to cling to him and pull him  _ closer.  _

Damian tips her backwards, following close behind, and they both hit the mattress in a tangle of limbs. Somehow his hands find hers and he laces their fingers together on either side of her head and he presses her deeper into the mattress. His weight settling on top of her is a comfort that makes her sigh in pleasure as he places his body between her legs, and she’s missed this  _ so much _ . Then he’s placing light, teasing kisses down the middle of her chest- soft and sweet, but not nearly enough to give her what they both want.

“Damian.” She moans softly, urging him to continue with fervor because it’s been two weeks since she’s felt him inside of her and she needs him  _ now.  _ His eyes flick up and over her face, lips ghosting over one breast. 

“You’re perfect.” He murmurs against her skin, “So soft.” He finds the scar that twists just below her breast, around her ribcage and he kisses her there softly, making her shiver. 

She whimpers when he releases her hands to travel lower, trailing kisses down her abdomen, down to where she’s burning for him. His fingers knead into the sides of one hip, lightly nipping the other and she gasps. And when his mouth hovers over her sex, making his intentions clear, she releases a noise of protest and rises up on both of her elbows because as despearately as she wants this, she wants to put his needs first. 

“Damian, I meant for you to use me for  _ your  _ pleasure. I-” She swallows another moan when he traces a finger just outside of her entrance. “I want to make  _ you  _ feel good.” 

“Did you not tell me to take whatever I needed Raven?” He asks her, waiting until she gives him a shaky nod. “This is what I want, what I need. To taste you. To hear my name on your lips as I watch you come.” 

He doesn’t wait for her response, but any words that come to mind vanish when he affixes her back down into the mattress with his heated gaze and he lowers his mouth onto her clit, sucking lightly. Immediately she arches into his mouth and her hands fist in his hair, a loud moan escaping her lips and both of his hands pin her hips down to keep her still. Pleasure bursts when his tongue flicks, then starts to circle, growing with an urgency that elicits another loud groan. 

And he doesn’t stop.

He plays her expertly, driving her up higher and higher, each stroke and swipe of his tongue sending her closer to orgasm. Too quickly, he brings her up to the peak, letting her hover for a moment. Then he pushes her over. White-hot blinding pleasure explodes across her body, tearing a cry from her lips and leaving a tingling sensation in its wake. She feels it all the way down to her toes. There’s a light ringing in her ears by the time he helps her come back down, soothing her swollen bundle of nerves with languid laps of his tongue, drinking her essence.

Breathing heavily, she stares at him through hazed eyes, catching his soft smirk when he pulls back to look at her. Then, he dips his head once more and blows softly on her clit. His grip tightens around her hips when she jerks against him. “So sensitive habibti, and you fell so fast. Did you think of me while I was gone?” 

“Yes.” She breathes, not even bothering to hide the need in her voice. 

“Hm.” She feels him smile against her sex, before he dips lower, suddenly licking all the way up her core and she cries out. “I’ve been thinking of tasting you ever since I left, and now that I’m home...I’m not letting you go.” 

And with that, he indulges himself once more. 

_ Oh,  _ he makes her see stars. She’s caught in an undertow, and his tongue the cause of the riptide but he doesn’t relent, not when she starts to shake and sweat beads down the bend of her knees. Not even when she’s straining against his hold, begging, nearly sobbing for him to stop as he works her over-sensitized nerves. He sends her over the edge again and again, and it seems like it’s his intention to just keep her there, in a constant sea of pleasure, and she can’t take it anymore. “Damian,  _ please!”  _ Her fists tighten in his hair and she pulls hard enough to cause him to pause and meet her eyes. 

A slow grin graces his features. “You’re so gorgeous when you cry out for me like that, Raven.” He kisses back up her body until he’s seated at her entrance and she mewls at the contact when he slides against folds. They groan together when he slides into her fully in one slow movement, and he stills for a minute, allowing her to adjust to the fullness of him. When he sets a deliberately steady pace, he brushes against that spot that sends black dots dancing along her vision. But then he sits up, hitting a different angle and his thumb presses down on her clit at the same time and she nearly screams as tears form in the corners of her eyes. 

“I-I can’t Damian. Please, not again.” 

He just hums and continues, ignoring her pleas.  _ Unrelenting.  _ “You will come again, Beloved. I am not finished with you yet.” He swipes her bundle of nerves once more as his pace becomes more ravenous, and she can’t hold back the piercing cry he draws out from her.

“I will spend the rest of this Valentine’s Day making you  _ burn. _ ”


End file.
